Been a bit of a gap between our Phalona Reach Campaign. Don't worry we haven't forgot and the fate of Phalona Reach all be decided. We have played a couple of 40k games using the mission deck (don't ask me which one ha ha ha I'm pretty sure it's the basic one) and seem to have got the hang of it. So we will use these for a good chunk of the games. I really enjoyed my missions and ideas for the victory points but they need more testing and ideas. There definitely still will be some home made missions but might chuck the GW secondary missions as another way of scoring VP. If each game can net us between 50 to 70 pts that should keep the overall total ticking along nicely.
To this end Matt has written a short story as a certain character of his just recently got a promotion and his own campaign. I have added a short story from the Phalonians perspective. I have the Matts story in this post but I would urge you to visit his page and have a look at the plethora of stories he has written! Check it out here.
The Weight of the War
The ramp of the Ecclesiastical lander hissed open, releasing a cloud of pressurized steam that swirled into the cavernous hangar of the Ultramarines' Battle Barge. Canoness Angelica stepped onto the deck plating, her every footfall ringing with the weight of her power armour. Behind her, two initiate attendants followed in a rhythmic, practiced cadence. The first carried her golden battle helm, a scarred relic recovered from the smouldering ruins of her Order’s Monastery. The second bore The Sacred Tome of the Lost, an immense, gold-chased volume whose vellum pages held the names of every Sister of the Adepta Sororitas martyred in the gruelling war on Phalona
The air aboard the vessel was a suffocating, holy miasma, a "soup" of cloying incense, melting candle wax, acrid promethium exhaust, and the sharp, metallic tang of sacred machine oils. It was the scent of a crusade. The soundscape was equally overwhelming, the Roar. Sub-orbital craft and heavy ground transports thundered across the deck, their engines vibrating in Angelica’s chest. The Chant, the rhythmic, binary-heavy canticles of a hundred Tech-Priests rose in a constant drone, attempting to soothe the machine spirits of the war-engines. Angelica felt a flicker of unease. The war on the surface had ground into a bloody stalemate, with both the Imperial forces and the Rebel insurgents pulling back to lick their wounds. With Lieutenant Titus, the stalwart bridge between their forces, unexpectedly recalled to Macragge by the Primarch’s decree, she found herself navigating a political and tactical vacuum.
The Resilient Heart
A chapter serf, clad in the pristine white and cobalt robes of the Sons of Guilliman, bowed low and began to lead them into the ship's guts. They moved past the bustling Stratagium, where she had once seen Titus hunched over tactical displays, and ascended into the command tiers. Here, the industrial roar faded into a heavy, oppressive silence. The architecture shifted from military utility to Gothic splendour—vaulted ceilings draped in tattered battle standards and marble pillars inscribed with the Codex Astartes. They finally reached a set of towering golden doors, guarded by the Victrix Guard. These elite warriors, statuesque in their ornate plate, offered a silent, respectful nod to the Canoness as the massive locks released with a series of rhythmic, hydraulic clacks.
The doors swung wide to reveal a grand observation chamber dominated by a massive hololithic projection of the Phalona system. In the centre stood a figure that defied the natural order. Roboute Guilliman, the Lord Commander of the Imperium, stood over the table. His towering form, encased in the Armour of Fate, made the Primaris Marines nearby look like children. As the doors closed, the Primarch turned. His movements were a paradoxical blend of ancient authority and cultured refinement, carrying across the room with effortless power. The heavy boots of the Victrix Guard remained motionless as Angelica passed, their presence like statues carved from cobalt and gold. As the massive doors hissed shut behind her the low, rhythmic thrum of the Battle Barge’s warp drive and the frantic clicking of data-slates were replaced by low muttering voices of strategy and logistics.
The chamber was vast, a cathedral of logic and logistics. Shafts of pale light filtered through stained-glass viewports, casting long, multi-coloured shadows across the marble floor. In the centre of the room, the hololithic projection cast a ghostly blue glow upward, illuminating the face of the Avenging Son. Roboute Guilliman did not look up immediately. He moved a massive, armoured hand through the flickering light of the hololith, shifting troop icons with the grace of a musician. Even without his helm, he radiated an aura of such sheer, crushing authority that Angelica felt the breath hitch in her throat.
"Canoness, welcome, you find the air of my ship a bit thick?" Guilliman asked, his voice a deep baritone that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of her bones. He finally turned, his eyes, ancient and weary, yet burning with an intellect that moved faster than any mortal mind, settling on her.
"It is the scent of duty, Lord Commander," Angelica replied, her voice steadying as she found her resolve. "It is not unlike the incense of the Cloister, merely... more industrial."
Now I had to make a short story from my side, just be warned my writing skills are much less than Matts.
“Are these confirmed” Governor Xavier Snarpe waved his hand over 2 data slates he had just read.
“Not 100 % Governor, Vox intercepts can be unreliable but the tech priests say the degree of certainty is within acceptable limits. “ his aide said as he picked up the data slates clearing the holo map projector.
Snarpe lost in thought noticed the movement and snapped back to reality, he activated the holo map. The reds and blues showing enemy forces and friendly forces looked the most stable they had been in a long time. Both sides had stopped and pulled back from fighting to reorganise and re-arm. He smirked, they had not expected this from just one planet. Phalona Reach had given the Imperium a bloody nose at the very least.
“Gather the commanders please”
The room was filled with generals and other officers all scanning copies of the data slates he had been reading minutes before . Their faces expressionless as they digested the new information. Some carried injuries sustained in Phalona Reach's struggle for independence but all knew what they had signed onto before this whole thing had started. Not much would surprise them.
“Governor, this is not ideal, “ General Laricon said. His grim features showed a young man aged by what he had seen not by any natural process.
Snarpe snorted a laugh down at the General's dry response,
“No General, it's far from ideal. I feel we should take it as a compliment. Our little planet has caused such a nuisance that the Commander of the Imperium has stopped by to put us in our place. “
That drew a laugh from the assembled officers. The slates contained intercepted vox traffic saying Roboute Gulliman Primarch of the Ultramarines and Commander of the Imperium had arrived in System.
“I believe the end game is closing. It seems we have made to much of a nuisance of ourselves. I was hoping for a defence against an imperial General and after a bloody nose they leave us alone to avoid anyone knowing their shame. Rotten luck to have Astartes in the area at the start. The Adeptus Sororitas have been a constant needle and Marshall Drevals obsession did nothing to help our
cause.
I will try and draw the battle to here Phalona Prime . I believe that is what Roboute will ask of the Adeptus Sororitas and Ultramarines. Cut the head and the snake will die. “ Snarpe looked round the room and swelled with pride. Non of his commanders looked frightened just determined.
“The defence of Phalona Prime will be priority. Start to move your forces into the city. They want the head of the snake well they will have to work for it”
murmurs of ascent rumbled through the assembled officers.
“Right get to it. Send Dutch and Lt Dimitriv in please as you go out”
Snarpe sat down in his chair as the generals filed out talking strategy. Barging through the last few officers leaving a burly man in combat gear and smoking a cigar .
“You requested my presence . “ Dutch said a permanent look of boredom on his face.
“You have a prisoner from a skirmish on the city limits. “ Snarpe enquired
“Yes she was awaiting meeting your esteemed self. “ Dutch followed this with a small fake bow
“Quite. I need you to take her to the edge of our lines and release her. “
Dutch looked shocked
Snarpe pleased he had managed to break the soldiers wall of indifference.
“Yes, I am not full of vengeance like Marshall Dreval was and I have no need of her. There will be no negotiations for which a hostage would be useful. “
Dutch saluted, “Your wish is my command” he walked out the door as loudly as possible it seemed.
In comparison a smaller man marched in and stood at attention.
“Lt Dimitriv reporting for duty!”
“Ah Lieutenant, I was reading a report about how you held your ground against the enemy with honour and skill.”
The Lieutenant looked shocked that a commander had actually read a report of bis.
“I have a special mission for you. In sector 23 there is a column of vehicles assembling. They will need you and your unit to lead them to these coordinates.” Snarpe slid a data slate over the Lt Dimitriv. “Where you will hand over the cargo to our mysterious allies the Lion Warriors. After the cargo has been transferred you're free to return here and aid the defence or form a guerilla unit and disappear somewhere to strike at the enemies rear.”
Lt Dimitriv started to stammer out words before visibly taking a large breath to calm him self.
“Yes cpmmander . I will do as you ask” he saluted and took the data slate . He marched out the room.
Snarpe leaned back, he could feel the command level start to pulse with activity, he had been distance from the fighting for to long. Now he would lead his people.
Already blue dots on the holo map started to move back towards Phalona Prime. Snarpe nodded with satisfaction.
A few hours later,
2 figures marched through a wooded area. One a tall male smoking a cigar the other a woman of smaller statue but burning with a defence that could not be tamed. Ropes held her wrists securely as they walked. She scowled at the man as he lead her .
“Why didn't you just shoot me here or back in the city in front of the rest of the heretics?” the prisoner asked her words dripped with hate.
A deep chuckle came from Dutch
“Oh we have a special surprise planned for you.”
After ten more minutes Dutch stopped, the prisoner looked around, a hint of nervousness passed over her face. She was clearly struggling to read Dutch and his intentions.
Dutch unsheathed his combat blade and approached the sister of battle. She did not shy back, her eyes burned with hatred.
“I am not afraid to die, I go to the emperor with a song in my heart knowing you heretics will burn .”
Dutch brandished the blade in front of the sisters face, a flicker of fear sparked inside her, before he moved inhumanly fast and slicing her bindings.
“Well you won't be meeting the Emperor just yet. You wanna be heading that way” he pointed out into the woods away from the city they had walked from.
“Now shoo “ he gave her a gentle push in the direction he had pointed and then walked away disappearing into the woods without a trace.
The Adeptus Sororitas stood for a few minutes unsure of what to do before starting to walk the way she had been shown.
